Maybe We Can Try
by itachiloverful
Summary: Hephaestus and Aphrodite have been married for a long time. But they've never known each other as man and wife. (Please leave a review. I have horrible writers block so any tips or telling me what you like about the story will help in the long run. Thank you)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 You figured, after centuries of the stares, taunts, and jeers, he would be used to it by now. Usually he just walked past the snickering groups of people, not even noticing their taunts.

But when it was HER..when she gave him those looks, or whispered behind his back, it broke him, a new piece every time. Some days, Hephaestus wondered why he even bothered trying to gain her affection. She was the most pure, beautiful creature he had ever seen. He had tried crafting objects that could match her beauty, hoping that maybe if he could create something similar he would stop falling for it. Alas, everything he created, though beautiful and high in value, paled in comparison to Aphrodite's beauty. Deep down he knew. Knew that his attempts to woo her with gifts and kind words would never work. Those were no different from the array of praise she receives every day. Working down in his forge is the only thing that brings him peace. Relief from the constant stares and buzzing. Relief from the constant reminders that she is laying with his brothers. Reaching up, he placed a calloused hand on the right side of his face, his worn fingertips grazing over every rivet created by a mass of scars, marring his face. Was this really why she didn't love him? Could she not move past the horrid image? He figured. Who really could love a beast like him?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: She shivered harshly, wrapping the lace shawl tightly around her shoulders. Tonight was cold. So cold she could see her breath leave in little white clouds and hear the crunch of frost under her sandaled feet. The Goddess of Love was alone tonight. She didn't know why. She had originally planned on staying with Aries after the large feast at the palace...but tonight...tonight she didn't want to be around the regular crowds. Tonight she wanted to go home. Her actual home. It had been months since she had been near that part of Olympus. She hadn't heard from Hephaestus in even longer. The only times she saw him were brief entrances and exits from the meeting room. Brief words. A small glance filled with hurt and sadness. She couldn't remember the last time she saw those eyes filled with joy...with laughter. It had been so long. Shivering once more she rubbed her upper arms, trying to spread warmth. Almost halfway to the house shared by the strange couple, a soft glow caught her attention. Turning her head, the tall blonde gazed at the warm glow leaving the forge near their palace. There was only one place in Olympus that Aphrodite had never been...and that was Hephaestus 's forge. Biting her lip, she stared at the tall building for a few more moments before shaking her head and rolling her shoulders back. She was a Goddess damn it and she wouldn't let some strange form of fear keep her from where she wanted to go. Taking the extra steps, she began walking towards the forge, scrunching her nose as the smell of burning wood and oil reached her. She hated this smell. It made her think of the smith god...and those eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Grunting softly, the large male carefully pulled the thin, gold wire out of the flames, lightly bending it into his preferred shap before dipping the string into the bucket of water. After pulling the desired length he shifted to his work table, wiping the sweat from his brow. Leaning down to his table, he twisted and bent the precious metal into a large loop, adding it to the four other loops. Pulling another strand out of the fire, he began weaving it around the four loops, binding them together. Reaching down into the small drawer on his desk, he lifted a small, golden heart. The charm was a pale pink cut of rose quartz, framed by thin lines of gold turned into intricate loops and wisps. Using a small gold clasp, he hooked the delicate heart onto the fettered hoops. The end result was a bracelet, simple and beautiful in almost every way. No flaw could be found by the naked eye. Smiling to himself, he placed the item into a small box, quickly putting a lid over it and storing it away in his desk.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The entire box made soft clinking sounds, as if there were more than one object hidden behind the dull exterior. Aphrodite watched in awe as her husband worked. From stories she had heard, blacksmithing was dirty, harsh work. Every story flew out the back door as she watched the man before her glide gracefully from part to part, pulling here, dipping and shaping there. Even with his ever present limp, she could tell that this was his domain. He ruled here with an iron fist, never faltering in his steps. She swore she caught him doing some of these motions with his eyes closed, almost as if he were sleeping. Suddenly he came to a stop, leaning heavily over the hearth. His shoulders sagged and an air of dread spread over him. After a few moments the goddess turned, rushing to get out of the forge. She didn't want to be around those immense feelings..those painful feelings anymore.

A blast of cold air hit her as she reached the outside, chilling her still flustered body. Touching her hand to her chest, she could feel her heartbeat slowly shifting back to a regular pace. He looked so happy in his forge. She felt a pang of jealousy. Why did he never look at her the way he looked at his creations? Clenching her fists, she stomped to their palace. If he wouldn't look at her, she would have to make him.


	5. Chapter 5

The large spruce wood door creaked in protest as Hephaestus shouldered his way into his silent home. Dragging his feet, his ever present limp was made only more prominent in his exhausted state. Depositing his gloves and heavy boots on the table by the door, he raked a hand over his face, trudging up the marble steps. If he were to be one hundred percent honest, he detested the interior of their palace, but Aphrodite was so fond of polished stone that he didn't have the heart to change a single inch of the place. The dark hallways guided the blacksmith to the room hidden in their depths. His room was covered in scattered projects, some new and some old. Blue prints and designs lie crumpled in random places; on his nightstand, on the small desk in the far corner. Some were even tucked under his pillow and blankets. His nightstand also held a small lamp and a single framed photo. The picture was taken many many years ago and contained the beautiful Aphrodite, holding her son Eros for the first time. It was the Forge god's most precious possession.


	6. Chapter 6

_When the young god was born, it was painfully obvious who the boy's father was- he was far too beautiful to be his own child. But instead of asking for the biological father to be there, Aphrodite had requested the presence of her husband._

 _To say that Ares was angered would be an understatement. The god of war flew into one of his (many) fits of rage once he had found out that not only was he not informed of the birth of his first child, but that the boy was a god of love as well, not a masculine creature like his father._

 _As the boy grew he showed no signs of being upset by the rejection from his father. He simply loved. Love the fact that he was alive, loved the fact that he was a god of love, and loved his mother._

 _It wasn't until later, when the boy was growing into a man, that the lack of fatherly affection began to bother him. Days went by and he would simply mope around his mother's palace, pondering why his father wanted nothing to do with him. Eventually, in a panic, Aphrodite called upon Hephaestus. The blacksmith wasted no time rushing to his wife's shared palace with her son to speak with the boy._

 _After that day, Eros grew to look at Hephaestus as a father figure. The two would spend quiet days in the forge where the elder god would show him how he crafted jewelry, weapons, and even the thrones of the gods. It was there that the forge god created the bow and arrows that Eros love so much._

Stroking the picture fondly, Hephaestus slowly sank to his mattress, listening to the crinkling of paper beneath him as he drifted off.

The italics signify that it was more of a flash back. I was reading up on some of the older Greek myths and ran across the part where Eros was passed to Hephaestus as his child instead of Ares claiming him sooo I thought I'd add a bit of a quiet father figure to the god we know and love. Thanks for reading. I should update again soon guys.


	7. Chapter 7

Aphrodite lounged lazily on the large silk covered bed, her fingers drawing slow circles on the stone colored sheets. This bed held no memories that she could detect; no indents from bodies that should have been sleeping here, no heavy smells or creased pillows. The only things that that gave the room any feeling of being used were the delicate jewels hanging from the ceiling with their golden chains and the strong, constant scent that lingered through the entirety of the palace. The smell of fire and brimstone was so strong it surrounded her in its dark embrace, whispering promises only her husband could keep.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the sound of their main door opening sent thrills through the love goddess. Bolting towards the door that led to their stairs, she waited with anticipation. Soon he would reach their room where she lay in waiting. Her stomach churned in nervous excitement. Soon, seconds ticked into minutes and she only grew more irritated.

Making her way down the stone steps, she glances down the hall following the sound of dragging steps and the soft click of the door. Moving off of the final step, she let out a quiet hiss at the cool marble on her bare feet and quickly tightened her robe around her bare skin.

She soon found herself up against the door, her ear pressed against the elegantly carved wood to listen to her husband on the other side. Papers crinkled loudly, followed by the creaking of a mattress. Counting the silent moments between the sounds, Aphrodite cautiously pushed the door open, her eyes falling to the man asleep on his side, his back to her.

His heavy breathing informed her that he was in fact asleep. Creeping around the cluttered room, she lowered to settle on the bed in front of him. Her amber eyes roamed his sleeping form, pausing only to gaze at his marred face.

She then began to wonder when she had stopped flinching at the sight of those scars, when had she stopped flinching every time she looked at his face or arm or leg? Lifting her hand, she delicately grazed the tips of her fingers across his scarred flesh. She had never heard the full story of how they came to be, but whispers around the halls of the Palace of Olympus mention him being thrown from the mountain due to a fight with their king, his father, Zeus. Pressing her thumb against Hephaestus' cheek bone, she rubbed the dips and rivets lovingly, wondering to herself what he had looked like before these marks hid his face from the view of others.

In a quick flash of movement she found herself pinned beneath the much larger god, his fingers dug painfully into the skin of her wrists, and his charcoal eyes burned with fear and anger.


	8. Chapter 8

Intense charcoal eyes stared down at her pink tinged face before roaming towards her exposed neck and chest. His grip on her wrists tightened as she arched up, forcing the cloth to fall from her flushed skin and revealing her pert breasts. Almost instantly his lips came smashing down onto hers, the hot, rough flesh molding to her much softer skin.

His fingers deftly move to tangle his fingers with hers as he kisses her with an intensity she had only dreamed of. Closing her eyes she parted her lips at the gentle prodding of his tongue, purring with pleasure once he invaded her. His scent was overwhelming, shrouding her with heat as she squeezed his hands. Those lips slowly left hers, only to begin peppering kisses along her cheek and finally down to her neck. Once there, he began to nip and suck at the skin, eliciting moans from his wife.

"Heph.." She breathed, arching to rub her chest against his.

At the sound of her voice his eyes snapped open. Releasing his grip, Hephaestus instantly jerked back, a hand clasped over his mouth in horror. Aphrodite slowly pushed herself onto her elbows, staring up at him. His eyes refused to meet hers.

"Heph?" She reached out to him, her fingertips grazing the skin of his arm.

Flinching away from her touch, he scrambled off of the bed and rushed out the door. The goddess of love slowly touched her lips. That was the first time he had looked upon his wife with want.


	9. Chapter 9

Sorry for not being on here as much as I was last year. But I have this chapter and the next one should be out soon. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Thank you for being so paitient with me. (Good Lord did I even spell that correctly?)

Rushing out into the cool night air, the smith God took deep and shuddery breaths as he ran his hands through his unkempt mess of brown hair. His heart pounded against his ribs, causing adrenaline to pump through his body and wake his still tired limbs.

What had gotten into him? He had never acted that way towards Aphrodite before. He was usually the very vision of self control, even when it came to the goddess of love and beauty. But today was different. His control he had worked so hard on had snapped just at the touch of the small woman's fingers...

Oh...She had touched him...those small fingers had left a trail of fire in their wake that still tingled and burned upon his flesh. Raking his hand over his face he took another deep gulp of air. He could still see her; her thin, flushed body pinned beneath him, her golden colored hair haloed around her as her chest heaved, forcing her burgundy colored robe to slip down and expose her heaving chest. Those amber eyes had stared up at him with so much fear and panic.

Then he had touched her...oh Gaia he had touched her. He had just put himself in the same position of every man that came in contact with Aphrodite, had made himself no better than them...but oh it had felt even better than he had ever imagined to kiss his wife. He could only imagine the disgust she must be feeling right now.

Lowering his head, he brought his fingers up to the scarred side of his face. What had he been thinking? He was such a predictable fool. By morning Aries was sure to be pounding on his door, looking for a fight. Sighing he felt his entire body sag with exhaustion, the adrenaline from before having worn off. It was well beyond time to head inside and try to get some rest.

Turning he stopped in his tracks, making eye contact with his wife who was currently standing in the doorframe of their home. Clenching his fists he walked forward, stepping around the small woman and making a beeline for his room, only to be stopped by a small hand grabbing his.


End file.
